


I Don't Mind

by very_distinctive_flamingo



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Birthday Party, Gen, M/M, Surprise Party, fiona gives the best presents, no one should ever let simon snow bake a cake, or throw a party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25711345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/very_distinctive_flamingo/pseuds/very_distinctive_flamingo
Summary: It's Baz's birthday, and Simon hasn't called. Or texted. But it's fine, really, Baz doesn't mind...Or, Simon tries to throw Baz a surprise birthday party and chaos ensues.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Kudos: 62





	I Don't Mind

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIENNA!!!! i wrote this for you and i really hope you like it! i decided on a carry on fic because that was how we met- screaming about carry on in the comments of a post that wasn't even related. i remember that i had never met someone who liked that book before, and i was so excited that i immediately and impulsively said "let's be best friends!!"   
> it was the best decision i've ever made in my life. you're such an amazing, wonderful, silly, smart and all around fantastic person, and i know things have been a bit hard lately, but i love you to the moon and back. happy birthday!

It’s England, so of course it’s raining on my birthday. Full on rain too, and any minute now there will be thunder and lightning and the few pedestrians still on the street will scramble for cover. All except me, of course. 

I don’t mind the rain. I’m a bit worried about my boots, they are leather after all, but I don’t mind the rain. I ought to go ahead and it to the list of things that should make this the crappiest birthday ever, if I minded them. It can go right next to the fact that Simon hasn’t called to wish me a happy birthday. I’ve been making excuses for him all day, which is probably a bad habit to get into, but I don’t mind. It’s  _ fine.  _ Even if he’s forgotten, it’s  _ fine.  _ It’s not making me second guess our relationship, because I don’t second guess things. I’m a Pitch, it’s not in my DNA to be wishy washy and overthinky. I leave that to Simon. 

I stop in the middle of the sidewalk, balancing my umbrella on my shoulder so I can pull my phone out of my pocket. No missed calls, no new texts, just Simon grinning up at me from the lockscreen. I make a sound of disgust and shove my phone back in my pocket. 

The street is empty now, blurred by rain but still strangely familiar. I think I’ve eaten at that cafe before, I have a vague memory of sitting at one of those outside tables and teasing Simon for spilling his drink all over himself. And there, isn’t that that witchy shop that Bunce likes? She dragged me in there once and it took ages to get the smell of incense out of my hair. If I’m right, their flat should only be two blocks away. It’s not like I have anything better to do… 

I set off walking before I can talk myself out of it. 

I’m standing outside their building when my phone chimes, and I actually drop my umbrella scrambling to pull it out of my pocket. It’s a text, from Simon, which is weird because he never texts. He prefers to call, which I don’t mind because the alternative is Bunce teaching him how to use his phone, and she texts like it’s still 2008. Apparently she’s too busy to use full words. 

The text is simple, it says  _ hey baz can you come over in like a few minutes :))  _

I blame Bunce for the emojis. The rest of it, though? Why does he want me to come over? Is he okay? Is Bunce going to be there? 

I run my hand through my hair (despite the umbrella, it’s still damp and probably frizzy. I’m really going to be rocking that “I just stuck my finger in a socket” look here). I think I’m reading too much into a single text. I grab my umbrella and head inside. 

Bunce answers the door, quickly stepping into the hall and closing it behind her. 

“Hi Baz,” she says, much too brightly. “Simon just texted you.” 

Bunce should never, ever play poker. Ever. “I know,” I drawl. “Aren’t you going to let me in?” She glances over her shoulder before focusing on me again. 

“Uh, no. I mean, yes. In a few minutes…” 

What is she hiding? Did Simon break the toaster again? Am I going to open the door and find a pile of dead bodies? With these two, I never know. In front of me, Bunce is leaning against the door, trying to look casual. 

“Let me in,” I say wearily. “Just… let me inside, Bunce.”

She does, yanking open the door. I push past her, hand on my wand, unsure of what I’m going to find. 

The first thing I notice is the balloons, and the huge banner on the wall that reads  **Happy Birthday Baz!!!** The second thing I notice is the cake that-- Oh, Merlin, did Simon and Penelope make that themselves? The third thing I notice is Simon, stepping in front of me with an adorably shy smile. 

“Happy birthday,” he says. “It’s a surprise party.” I grin, not even caring in my fangs show. That’s the last thing on my mind now. 

“I know you don’t like surprises,” he continues. “But I just thought it’d be fun, and it’s going to be small, but everyone else should be here soon. I mean, Dev and Niall should be here soon and-” 

“Dev and Niall don’t even like me,” I protest, but he doesn’t even hear me. Simon blusters and rambles when he’s nervous. I don’t know how he managed to make it through Watford when he can barely talk half the time. 

“Basically, I just thought it would be nice, but if you don’t like it…” I focus on Simon again, grabbing him by the shoulders. He looks at me, slightly scared. Like I’m going to push him down the stairs again or something. This idiot. 

“Simon. I don’t mind,” I say firmly. Then I release him, glancing around the room. “I mean, not that you know the first thing about throwing a party. But it’s the thought that counts.” I flash him a grin, to let him know that I’m joking (mostly). He smiles back. 

Fiona shows up a few minutes later, carrying a suspiciously large package that I could swear holds something alive. She also brings an inexplicable bag of cat treats and enough alcohol for us to open a small liquor store. No one touches it, but that’s Aunt Fiona for you. 

Dev and Niall don’t show, which isn’t surprising. What is surprising, though, is that fifteen minutes after Fiona arrives, Bunce’s phone starts to ring. 

“It’s Agatha! I didn’t think she’d actually call!” she exclaims, and we all crowd onto the sofa. Agatha comes on screen, and for a moment I don’t even recognize her. Her cornsilk hair has turned a sort of sandy colour, and she has freckles. Her smile looks slightly forced, but she’s putting on a good show.

“Wellbelove,” I say, not quite coolly. “Nice of you to call.”

“Happy birthday,” she replies. “How’s things?” Crowley, a few months in California and she’s already got a proper west coast accent. 

“Everything’s good,” I say carefully. “How is it over in Cali?” I don’t think she realizes I’m making fun of her, because her smile becomes a little more genuine. 

“It’s wonderful,” she answers earnestly. “I love it here.” There’s a barking sound from somewhere off screen, and Agatha turns. Aunt Fiona’s package makes a strange sound, almost a growl. 

“Oh, do you have to go out?” Agatha asks the off screen barking which I can only assume is a dog. Then her face reappears. 

“Sorry, got to go! It’s been swell! Happy birthday, Baz.” She hangs up before Bunce can finish saying goodbye. I flop back on the couch.

“Not your best idea, Bunce.” 

“Oh, come on. I thought it’d be nice to hear from her!”

“Yes, but she obviously disagreed.”

“She did not-”

Simon effectively cuts off our bickering by setting the cake heavily down on the coffee table. I sit up and take a look. It’s even worse up close, lopsided and lumpy. The icing also looks homemade, it’s runny in some places and thick and patchy in others. In wobbly letters someone, probably Simon, has written  _ Happy birthday Baz.  _ The z is almost nonexistent. Next to me, Fiona stifles a giggle. 

While Bunce cuts the cake and plates it, Fiona grabs the package and hands it to me. It’s almost too big to fit onto my lap. 

“Present time,” she says, almost giddily. With her streak of white hair and maniacal grin, she looks like a madwoman. Plus, she’s wearing cheap black lipstick. It’s her idea of dressing up. I roll my eyes and open the package, perhaps with not quite enough caution, considering what happens next. 

A large, furry  _ something  _ leaps out, lets out a loud yowl, and jumps off my lap and onto the coffee table. Bunce squeals and makes a grab for the cake, which gets the creature’s attention, and it lunges for her, only to be thwarted by the very lopsided cake. It lands on the cake and lays there, apparently stunned. Fiona is laughing her head off. Bunce is wielding a spatula. And Simon is looking forlornly at the ruined cake. I reach forward and carefully lift the furry, icing covered creature, which resolves itself into the biggest cat I have ever seen. It’s huge, with a good chunk of its ear missing and a disproportionately short tail. Underneath the blue icing, it’s coat is a shiny black. I glare at Fiona.

“Happy birthday,” she says. I roll my eyes. By this time, Bunce has regained herself and is ready to take charge of the situation.

“Baz, you go clean up the… cat. Simon and I will take care of the cake, some of it is probably still edible.” 

She has a steely glint in her eye that says  _ don’t mess around _ , so we don’t. 

Once the cat and the cake are taken care of, the party is pretty much over. Simon suggests a movie, and I put on Mean Girls. You can never go wrong with a classic. We all pile onto the couch, which really isn’t made for more than two people, but somehow we make it work. Bunce divvies up the remaining cake into motley piles, and we all eat cake and watch Mean Girls. The cat, who is apparently named Lilli (short for Lilliputian, someone’s idea of a joke), curls up on my lap and promptly falls asleep. As we watch Cady and Janice have their fight, Simon nudges me. I look over at him.

“Was this a good birthday?” he whispers. 

“Yes,” I reply. “Yes, it was.” I’m not lying. This is probably the best birthday I’ve ever had, despite all the chaos. At the end of the day, I’m surrounded by people I love, and they love me, and that’s what matters. Crowley, I sound like a greeting card. Or a throw pillow. Ick. 

....It’s true, though. I grin at Simon and pull him in for a kiss. He tastes like cake. Penny hits us with a pillow, yelling in between giggles about “disgusting PDA”. I hit her back, and pretty soon we’re all having a pillow fight. It really is the best birthday. 


End file.
